The ABC's of CSI: Book II: A Matter of Time
by danceoftheheart
Summary: This series takes up directly where ABC's left off so for those of you who wanted more, here it is. Please enjoy responsibly.
1. Midnight

_A/N: By popular request, this series is a continuation of my ABC's of CSI series. Picks up directly where the other left off._

A Matter of Time

Part I: Midnight

_Tell me at midnight, before the moon starts fading_

_Tell me at midnight, why go on masquerading._

_The sky is so full of stars and I can hear soft guitars,_

_The still of the night is clear, the thrill of my life is near,_

_Kiss me at midnight, let us love now or never,_

_Tell me at midnight, your heart is mine forever._

_Frank Sinatra_

In her postage stamp of an office, Sara Sidle Grissom looked every inch the professional as she sifted through paperwork with the determination of an army at full march. The glow of her desk lamp highlighted her features with gentle, sweeping shadows, making her dark eyes appear even more luminous than normal in the half light. I leaned against her door frame and watched her work because I didn't want to interrupt her chain of thought. We were very patient leaners, Sara and I, content to take in the quiet of the moment while it was still our choice to take it. Much would change after the baby came…I was sure that this would be no exception.

She knew I was there. I could tell by the way the corners of her lips twitched as she scratched the pen against the rough parchment of the file. She also knew that I was willing to wait. I would have said something by now if it was urgent.

Less than a minute later, she neatly capped her pen and leaned back in her chair, glancing at her watch. "Midnight. The witching hour. How apropos." She smiled at me broadly. "Did you plan it that way?"

"No. It's just the way things worked out. Thought you might be up for a breath of fresh air before we head up for the supervisors' meeting. You should see the moon. It's breath-taking."

She smirked. "The moon, Gil? Really? You came in here because you thought I might want to see the moon?"

"Saw right through that one, huh? You caught me. The moon was just an excuse."

"So, you had an ulterior motive? A secret agenda?"

I shrugged, grinning myself in return. "Of course. Wanna neck?"

She dissolved into giggles. "You are evil. Coming in here and teasing me like that when you know I have a mountain of paperwork to finish before I leave."

"I finished mine," I gloated, slipping inside her office and closing the door behind me.

Her lips twisted. "Yeah, but you cheated." She pushed one file away and pulled another into reach. "I'd be done too if I had an administrative assistant."

"Do I detect shades of green in your tones?"

She snorted and shook her head. "Hardly. Unlike SOME people I know, I find paperwork very relaxing…well…most of the time. At least I do when it's done correctly and not mucked up like this mess I'm sorting through. If I ever find out who was responsible for this mess…"

"You mean you don't know?"

She shook her head a second time. "No one is stupid enough to admit they were responsible, though Greg was kind enough to offer a suggestion."

"Which was?"

"Gremlins."

"How hard did you hit him?"

She smiled evilly but declined to answer. "Anyway, doesn't really matter who's at fault. I'm in it now. Matter of honor to see it through to the end at this point. I'd really like to have this project completed before I take maternity leave."

"Speaking of…who's stepping in while you step out?"

Her eyebrows shot up in surprise. "You mean, you don't know?" At my negative response she made a grunt of complaint. "Well, that's good news. I'm due to leave at the end of this month and there's no replacement."

"I'm sure Ecklie has everything covered. Hell, there's probably a memo lying on my desk with all of the pertinent information. Don't worry. I'll check into it later."

She propped her chin on her fist. "Easy for you to say. You don't have someone new coming in to mess around in your files." Her face was every shade of resignation. "What's the point of getting everything cleared up if someone is just going to come in here and destroy all of my hard work?"

"Okay, I'll tell you what. I'll go on maternity leave and have the baby and you can stay with your precious files." I watched her carefully, wondering how she would take my tease. When her hand clutched reflexively, I also wondered if I was still fast enough on my feet to duck if she followed through on her instinct to chuck her stapler at me, but then the moment was over and her hand retreated to her lap.

"Okay, just for that, funny man, you are treating me to a hot fudge sundae with all the trimmings…no, wait. A banana split! Even better…oh and have them add some of those peanut butter chips to it."

"And just where am I going to lay my hands on one of those before we have to go into the meeting?"

"Good question. Let me know when you figure it out." She bent back to her paperwork.

"You're not serious."

She peeked at me under her lashes. "Wanna bet? Come on, dear, hop to it. You've only got forty minutes before we're due upstairs."

"I've got a better way to make it up to you."

She actually laughed at that as she came closer and looped her arms around my neck. She pulled my head towards hers for a very heated, very solid kiss but leaned away before things got out of hand. "I'm sure you do," she told me, fingering the buttons of my shirt with the skill of a professional tease, "and under any other circumstance, I'd let you follow through but Gil, you're dealing with a pregnant, stressed out wife here. As much as I love it, I can have sex with you anytime…ice cream on the other hand…hand-delivered by my handsome husband…well, now…that's what my baby has her heart set on and I'm afraid I'm going to have to put her needs ahead of my own."

Her sweet tone was so patently false and cajoling I smirked. "Playing the baby card, Sar? That's low, even for you."

"Yeah, I know, but I can't help myself." She tried to look apologetic but let's face it, if was any remorse about sending me for ice cream, I couldn't see it.

My hand drifted down to her pronounced mid section and I sighed, knowing I was about to take a road trip. "A hot fudge sundae"

"No, no, the banana split, remember? I changed my mind."

"Right. Okay, okay. I'll ask Greg. He might have an idea of what's serving around here this late at night."

"You're the best husband in the world." She beamed that special Sara smile at me and at that moment I know I would have bent over backwards to get her anything her heart desired. "Do you know how much I love you?" she asked, her palms soft on my face and rose to her toes to brush her lips softly against mine.

"How much?"

"More and more everyday," she answered, softly.

"More than ice cream?"

She grinned wider. "Right at this moment or in general?"

I chuckled ruefully. "Never mind. I'm not sure my ego could handle your answer. One banana split coming up." I opened the door and slipped into the hallway to track down Greg. I only made it a few steps when her voice rang out behind me.

"Oh…with peanut butter chips. Don't forget the peanut butter chips, okay Gil?"


	2. 1:00 am

A Matter of Time

Part II: 1:00 am

Okay, so, as any pregnant woman of seven months or more would know, there are certain things that you are forced to accept about your body when you're that far along whether you like it or not. The first is that no matter how hard you try, finding a comfortable position is near to impossible. Secondly, no matter how much sleep you get it never seems to be enough and third, if you do manage to find that blissful combination of a comfortable position and time in which to sleep, something is bound to wake you up.

Seeing as I was getting closer to my delivery time, Gil and I had decided we should change our work hours to mimic 'normal' cycles of day and night. We were still assigned to grave shift but Catherine was acting as temporary supervisor and handling field work while Gil and I were managing the lab and administration duties. For the most part it worked, but when the lab got busy, we ended up pulling doubles to make up for the lack of qualified investigators.

The past two days had been extremely busy. After working almost around the clock, Gil and I had managed to stumble home and fall into bed around 11:30 pm. I didn't even remember closing my eyes.

_One, two, three o'clock, four o'clock rock!_

"UGGHHH. Dammit, Gil, your dog is at it again."

"He can't be. I took the cd out, I swear."

_We're gonna rock around the clock tonight!_

"Obviously not."

"Sara, I did. I know I did."

"Gil, unless Bill Hailey and the Comets have decided to give an impromptu concert in our living room, that dog is messing with the cd player again. At full blast, no less."

Gil mumbled a few obscenities under his breath and flipped onto his back. "When the hell did he learn to adjust the volume?"

"I have no idea but if I have to listen to another lecture from your upstairs neighbor-"

He threw back the covers and climbed to his feet. "Okay, okay, I'll go unplug the stereo. It's just so damn inconvenient."

"It's a lot more inconvenient to keep having to bake apology cookies, let me tell you." I buried my head under the pillows, grumpy, uncomfortable and annoyed but reasonably sure that Gil would assess the situation and deal with it. Within minutes there was an abrupt absence of noise followed by some low-voiced talking of the one-sided variety. Not long after, I heard Gil re-enter our bedroom then felt the bed give as he climbed back under the covers. His legs brushed against mine. "Aaaahhhh! You're feet are like ice!"

He ignored my complaint entirely and inched closer. "Okay, so it's not quite as freaky as we thought."

"Gil, your feet!"

"I'm warming them up," he told me smugly, spooning into my curves. "It wasn't the cd player blasting. It was the radio."

"We're in the middle of the desert. How the hell did your feet get that cold?"

"Beats me. Oh, and the fact that 'Rock around the Clock' was playing was sheer coincidence because the cd is in its case as I said it was."

I tried to inch away but he held me fast. "Move 'em or lose 'em, Gil. Seriously. The first toe-less entomologist in CSI history."

"You couldn't possibly know that for certain. And as for the volume, Bruno was chewing on the remote. He must have clamped down on the audio control."

"He was chewing on the remote?"

"Yes. _Someone_ got peanut butter on it."

_Whoops._ Knowing that someone had probably been me, I shot a sheepish grin over my shoulder.

"Oh. I see. Hmmm. If I apologize for yelling at you will you keep your feet on your side of the bed?"

"You could try."

"Fine. I'm sorry I blamed your dog's screwy behavior on you. Are we good?"

"Yes."

"Ahem. Your feet?"

"Are just warming up."

"Dammit!" I tried to escape again but there was nowhere to go. "Fine. Be that way," I huffed. "Just remember, I have a key to your office."

"And?"

"And if you keep this up I'll go in there and re-arrange your specimen jars."

He chuckled evilly. "That would bother you much more than it would bother me considering that you're the one who alphabetized them in the first place."

I had no answer for that so I 'accidentally' elbowed him in the stomach. When he grunted I was quick to make amends. "Oh, Gil, sorry about that. It slipped."

He moved his feet away. "Ow, you're not playing fair."

"I'm pregnant. Who said anything about fair?"

Wisely, he changed the subject. "I put the remote on a higher shelf."

"How did you manage to get it away from Bruno with all of your fingers in tact?" Bruno loved peanut butter more than Gil and I combined.

"Bribery. I traded him for a Nutterbutter."

"And he's no fool. Mmmmm," I muttered sleepily. "Smart man. I'm so grateful I had the good sense to fall in love with a genius."

"So am I." He kissed my neck soundly and snuggled closer into my back.

He felt good. My stomach, however, did not. "Ooooo."

"Uncomfortable?"

"Of course. Here." I reached back for his hand and laid it on top my abdomen. "She's playing soccer in there."

"Time to go to sleep, baby," Gil said softly, his palm circling the area where the kicking was most intense. "Mommy's tired."

"Daddy's a little wiped himself," I whispered back. "We both worked a double so if we promise to keep the dog away from the stereo maybe we could all get a little sleep, hmmm?"

Gil kept rubbing and I lost myself in his soothing touch. The tension seeped slowly from my muscles and shock of shocks, she settled. "There. Just got to know how to do it," he told me smugly and then ruined it by yawning.

Not really sure I should reply for fear of waking the baby again, I lay there quietly, listening to his heartbeat but when everything remained still and calm I whispered, "You got lucky but I'm not stupid enough to complain. Let's get some sleep while we can."

My only answer was a deep prolonged snore.


	3. 2:00 am

A Matter of Time

2:00 am

"_Time is a great teacher; unfortunately it kills all of its pupils."_

_Hector Berlioz_

"…and so this guy comes out, screaming at the top of his lungs, totally hysterical and runs up to the first squad car and starts pounding on the window, demanding the officers get out of the car and go help his 'friend.'"

"Wait, Nick, you forgot the best part," Greg interrupted, straddling a chair and setting his coffee down on the breakroom table. "Body paint," he added gleefully and then waited for the reaction to set in.

"Body paint?" Catherine asked. "Oh, you mean only body paint!"

Nick took back the narrative. "Yeah, he was a colouful character all right. Thought it was a tattoo at first. A full body tattoo…"

"Of?" Catherine prompted.

Greg, ever ready to steal the punch line jumped in. "An elephant…in the jungle…you can guess what he used for the elephant's truck."

"Eeewe," I said, pushing my protein shake aside with a grim grin. "That was one image I could have lived without."

Under the cover of laughter, my husband pushed my protein shake back within hand's reach. I tilted my head, silently pointing out that he was managing me again but he just pushed his glasses up a little further on the bridge of his nose and gave me one of those…ahem…intense stares. My lips twitched in amusement. I leaned in and whispered, "Those glasses are not magic, Gil. I think I've become immune."

"You wish," he whispered back, seeing through the lie easily. "Drink your shake."

My eyebrow arched with a sarcastic curl. "Yes, dear. Anything else, my lord and commander?"

He winked at me, wisely saying nothing further, and I sighed and gave in. He was just too cute to stay mad at. Besides, my doctor would have a few choice words for me if I lost any of my recently gained weight before I came to term.

We turned our attention back to Nick and Greg's story, nodding along as Greg went into graphic detail on the pachyderm design. "It was pretty good. Hell, better than I could have done. And it was raining pretty hard, right? Pouring. I mean, look at it out there. It's still coming down."

"So anyway," Nick said, waving his hands in the air to encompass a volume of space, "with the paint, you could sort of say he was covered but that paint didn't stand a chance against this deluge. That elephant started running down his body in milky trails and I swear no one was more shocked than he was when he realized what was happening."

I rolled my eyes. "I hate it when my body paint runs. Especially just after someone's been shot. So embarrassing." On the tails of my dry response, Gil choked on his water so I figured that made us even and finished my shake without thinking much more about it.

Greg reached over, stole some of Catherine's carrot sticks and chomped on them happily. "You'd think embarrassment would be foremost in his mind too, but that's not how he reacted. He was mad because the artwork had taken him hours and it was ruined in seconds. Then he went off about how his boyfriend had been so inconsiderate as to get himself shot before he'd been able to take a decent picture for this art show they'd entered and how the boyfriend was always doing stupid crap like that to him." There was a lot of wincing and groaned chuckles but considering this was Vegas, none of was us at all shocked by the bizarre display of 'artistic' temper.

Greg went on talking, filling in more of the details but I was suddenly distracted by a very strange sensation in the lower part of my abdomen. I wouldn't have actually called it a pain, necessarily, but there was definitely some tightening and pulling going on. I shifted a little, thinking that I strained something earlier, and tried to find a more comfortable position. For the next few seconds, that seemed to have worked but when I took a breath in, I felt a more distinct pull that stopped me cold. _Wait a second! Did I just have a contraction?_

"All I can say is that his boyfriend is damn lucky Skeeter called 911 before the paint wore off. I'm not so sure Skeeter would have been so accommodating after the fact." Nick lobbed his soda can into the recycling bin with an easy hand. "And how has your night been so far?"

"The usual, right Sara?" Gil said, nailing the same shot Nick had made with just as much ease.

"Um…what?" There was another tug-and yes, I do mean tug- right on the heels of the first. I frowned into my half eaten salad trying to convince myself that I was just experiencing a rather curious bought of indigestion. I could feel my tension levels rising and I tried to calm myself and think rationally. _It was nothing. Just a little stitch, right? Right? Too much liquid or too much food._

A hand landed on my forearm. "Sar? Something wrong?" Gil had finally clued in that all was not as it should be.

More tightening. So much for mind over matter. "I-I don't know." More for his sake than my own I forced a smile. "Hey, Cat?"

"Yes?"

"What do contractions feel like?"

A hush fell on the room with all of the inherent heaviness of the elephant we'd been discussing earlier and then all of the men began firing off directives, trying to take charge of the situation. Someone offered to call 911. Another offered to drive. I think Greg suggested that they wheel me in the office chair I was sitting in to the parking garage to avoid any unnecessary effort on my part. Even Gil was caught up in the panic of the moment as he told Jim to call Al Robbins to check me out.

Catherine and I ignored them completely.

She made her way to my side and leaned in close to be heard over the others. "Simply put, contractions hurt. You'd know if you were having one."

"Well that's consistent with everything I've heard but…there's something strange happening here. I'm not having pain but I'd swear I was in labor."

The fury of testosterone in the background was whipping itself into a good scale storm. In a fit of pique, Catherine turned to the squawking masses of masculine confusion and sent out a sharp whistle through her teeth. "Get a grip and shut up for a second so we can figure out what's going on!" She flicked her attention back to me, laying a hand on my stomach. "What are you feeling?"

"Tightness. Tugging. At first I thought she-the baby-was just being her usually active self but this feels…different." Another strong pull and I moved Catherine's hand to the spot. "They're getting longer and faster."

"But no pain. Wow. You're past the danger zone right?"

"It's early but my doctor said to expect it at any time. I just didn't expect it to feel like this. Kind of took me by surprise."

She nodded. "I think you're right. You are in labor. And you just might be the luckiest woman on the face of the planet if those 'tugs' you're feeling are your body's version of contractions. Only one way to find out. Looks like we're off to emergency."

"Do you think we have time? They're coming pretty close together." Some of the anxiety that was still pulsing through the room had managed to seep past my defenses and I was suddenly very concerned about how quickly things were progressing.

"How close?" Gil asked, elbowing in for some room at my side.

"I haven't exactly timed them but they're rolling off the ends of each other and given the choice I'd rather have the baby here than in a car on the way to the hospital. At least here we have help and equipment."

"Desert Palm Hospital isn't that far, Sar. I think we should try."

Catherine's answer came right on the heels of Gil's. "I'm with him. We're assuming these are contractions but what if we're wrong. We can't just wait it out and see."

I bit my lip, looking at the anxious faces around me, but my hesitation was brief. "All right. Let's get moving."

"We'll cover our bases," Jim said, snapping his cell phone closed. "Al's on his way over. I just put an ambulance on alert in case we don't make it. Let's get you into a car and make tracks. Who's the fastest driver?"

"Sara," five voices said simultaneously, though my husband's response was less enthusiastic than the rest.

"Very funny guys. I hardly think this is the time for jokes." I pushed myself grumpily out of the chair and ambled over to the door.

"Who's joking?" I heard Greg mutter behind me as Gil grasped my elbow in support and escorted me out into the hallway.

"I'll drive," Nick said, dangling keys from his fingers and trotting off to bring the car to the front doors.

"I'll grab your coat and bag," Catherine offered. "Don't worry about a thing. Greg, Warrick and I will hold down the fort."

"Thanks, Catherine. We'll call you as soon as we know what's going on." Our little parade to the elevators was beginning to attract attention. One by one technicians and investigators began poking their heads out of their labs to see what all of the fuss was about. A couple of people commented or asked questions but Gil and I let the others handle the explanations. My abdomen was starting to feel uncomfortably bloated – okay…worse than usual – and there was hardly a breath or two between one contraction and the next. Gil pushed the down button and I leaned against the wall, rubbing my stomach in a mindless, circular fashion to ease some of the nerves I was feeling. I focused on the call numbers, watching the lights flash as the elevator car came closer to our floor. When the doors finally sprang open, Doc Robbins was on the other side, breathlessly straightening his clothes.

"Gil! Sara! Sorry. I would have been up here a little faster but I took a moment to clean up. Jim says you think you're in labor-" His comment died a sudden death as, to my ultimate horror, my water broke without warning, ruining the carpet in the elevator car and the good doctor's leather shoes. Never at a loss for words, Al Robbins looked down at the puddle calmly and drawled, "Good call, Jim. Judy-?"

"I'm on it, Dr. Robbins," our receptionist sang out cheerily from her desk. "I'll call maintenance and take care of everything. You just go on and do what you need to do."

I shook my head in wonder. "Eight years ago, something like this would have sent her packing…now it's like it's all just routine. Sorry about the shoes, Doc."

"They've seen worse and survived," he replied with a shrug.

"Options people?" Jim asked.

"Someplace…sterile…calm…clean and warm would be good," I said softly between my teeth as another contraction rippled through me. This one had a little bite on the end of it and I have to say it was almost a relief to feel the pain.

"My office?" my husband asked as we turned about and started back the way we'd come.

I rolled my eyes. "Well, I guess it's a better option than the morgue. Fine. Whatever. We'll cover your sofa with something and I'll work really hard to ignore the wall to wall creepy crawlies."

Most of the people in the lab were still clustered in the hall and there were several offers of help. Catherine took stock quickly, deciding who needed to keep on with official business and who could be spared to help us. Then, after a breezy, "Good Luck. I'll check on you when I can," she shooed Nick and Warrick out the door, leaving us to get on with the process of delivering my baby.

From that point on, Doc Robbins sort of took charge, casually issuing directives to get things organized to suit his needs. Gil's office underwent a miraculous transformation in a matter of minutes. Bodies flowed in and out delivering towels from the locker room, bowls of hot water from the break room and linens from the good doctor's lab. Before I really had a chance to take it all in, I was lying comfortably on Gil's couch, sucking on ice chips, while trying to match my breathing to the gently swelling strains of a new age cd someone had thoughtfully popped into Gil's computer.

"What is that? Pachebel's Canon?"

"Yes." Gil smirked, holding up the cd cover for me to see. "Complete with nature sounds. According to the track information this disc is guaranteed 'to transport you to another realm. The serenity of ocean fountains will captivate you with the soothing sounds of the ocean. Listening to the sounds of the flowing water will have a very calming effect and will soothe your mind and soul.'"

"Yeah, that or make you want to go to the bathroom," Greg piped in, after dropping off yet another bowl of hot water. "Do you think this will do, Doc?"

Al shot a dry glance in my direction before answering, "Yes, Greg. I think nine bowls more than sufficient. Thanks."

Greg missed the teasing edge of the doctor's tone altogether. "Okay then. I guess that's it. Do you want us to clear the room?" He gestured with his head to include Mandy and Archie in the question.

"It might be useful to have another set of hands, Greg, so why don't you stay. If you two don't mind, I'd appreciate you waiting for the paramedics and escorting them up here as soon as they arrive."

"We can do that. See you in a few," Mandy answered over her shoulder, already hustling to do what the doctor had requested. "Call us if you need us."

"You'll be the first," Al affirmed as the younger man pulled the door closed behind him. "Greg, you up for this?"

"What? You mean the whole birth thing? Yeah, sure. Just another day in the life, right?"

I glanced over at Greg's face. He looked a little pale at the idea of assisting but I could see that he was gearing himself up for it. "Greg will be fine, won't you Greg?"

"You bet. You bet. I've been around kids all my life. Cousins, you know. Lots and lots of cousins. I can handle it."

"Good," Al said and passed Greg a small plastic dispenser. "Sanitize your hands with this and grab a pair of gloves from the shelf."

"I don't see a box," Greg said, looking in the direction the doctor had indicated.

"There should be a new box beside Houdini's environment," Gil told him. "I just opened it this morning."

"Yeah. Okay. Got it."

The sounds of Greg snapping on latex barely penetrated. "OHHHHHHHHHH ssssssshhhhoooooottttttt!" I hissed, clutching at the cushions and squeezing my eyes closed tightly.

Gil was at my side instantly. "Sar?"

"I'm okay…I'm okay…things…are…"

"Starting to hurt now," Gil finished off. He rubbed my back in sympathy and eased me up a little so I was more comfortable. "What can I do to help?"

"I don't know," I gasped, "this is all moving so quickly. We're supposed to count, right? That's what they taught us in class. Concentrate on the counting to get through the-oooohhhhhhh!"

"One…two…three…" Gil started, nodding in response, while I squeezed his hand hard enough to break it.

"Four…Five…Six…" I joined in, riding out the sharp, energy zapping, abdominal cramp.

We made it to fifteen before I was able to take my first full breath again. "There. That wasn't so bad."

I shot a look at my husband. "For you maybe."

"Ah, Grissom?"

Gil ignored Greg's interruption and promptly dropped a kiss on my cheek. "You're right of course. Sorry."

"Grissom, um-"

Once again, Greg's interruption was ignored as our attention was taken by something else. "AHhhhhhhhhhhhhhgeeeeeezzzzzz here we go again…" I moaned, gripping Gil's hand in a bone crushing clench.

"One…two…three…" Gil whispered in my ear until I could hear him and join in again.

"Sara, you're almost fully dilated. You're um-Greg! Will you stop jumping around like that! If you're that nervous then-"

Greg popped up from behind Gil's desk, looking very flushed and frustrated. "I'm not nervous doc, I'm just trying to-"

The door burst open. "The paramedics are here," Mandy said breathlessly, as she stood aside to let the medical technicians through.

There was a confused mass of conversation which Gil and I primarily ignored as we battled through another contraction but I heard enough to know that Al and the paramedics were exchanging information about my condition. "So far, nothing out of the ordinary."

"Then I agree that it would be best to let her continue on here," the female paramedic responded, coming closer and opening up her bag. "I'd like to get a blood pressure band on her and take a few vitals."

"Good. You okay, Sara? You haven't said much."

Having realized that the urge to push was seriously beginning to take over every inch of concentration I possessed, I nodded, blowing air through my lips in little puffs as another contraction hit me. "Little busy, Doc. I think-I think we're getting closer."

Al bent down to make his own determination on that score. "Yes…yes…like I said, you're almost fully dilated."

"Good to know, considering my body's…decided…to…ohhhhhhh…"

"Okay, folks, here we go. Gil, get behind her. Support her back and shoulders. Don't want her sliding to the floor in the middle of this. Greg, the head's crowning. I want you to get some of those sheets and make a cradle to wrap the baby in when she comes out."

"Sure thing, Doc, but um…Grissom?"

"Yes, Greg?"

Greg bent close to Gil's ear. I didn't hear what was said but my husband went very still. "What? What is it?" I asked, my voice rising anxiously. "Is-is something wrong?"

"No. No. It's nothing. Nothing, Sara. Just Greg being Greg." Gil answered me and I had to be satisfied with that because suddenly a little person was emerging from my body and nothing else mattered.

I don't remember much after that…some pain…then some more pain…and lots of heavy breathing…but it all blurs into a soft haze until the moment in which I heard my daughter's first gasp of breath followed by a healthy yowl. "Is she okay, Al? Is she-?"

"She's fine, Sara, at least as far as I can tell. She's beautiful and strong," he answered, his back turned to me. When he turned around again, my little girl had been wrapped securely in the linens Greg had been holding and Gil and I were able to meet our daughter for the first time.

Her little face was puckered with temper, and she was red all over but she was the cutest, most adorable, little creature I'd ever seen. "Well, hello you. I've been waiting forever to meet you. Shhh….shhh….it's okay. It's okay. All that nasty business is over now. Just you and me and your daddy now. Just us. Shhhh…that's it…shhhh." Her cries settled into short, little gasps and I grinned as she gave us a huge yawn before letting her eyes drift shut.

"God, Sara, she's you all over, isn't she?" Gil reached over my shoulder, extending a finger to stroke the downy, dark thatch on our baby's head. "Look at all of that hair."

I giggled softly, all teary eyed and gooey from head to toe. "That must be from your side of the family, Gil. I was totally bald when I was born." I adjusted the cloth around her neck so I could see her face better. "She's so tiny."

There was a soft rap on the door. "I know…I know I'm intruding but-"

"Come in, Catherine," I said quietly, leaning my head against Gil's shoulder. Fatigue was starting to set in quickly at that point and I knew it wouldn't be long before I followed my daughter's example and drifted off to sleep. "Come in and meet her before they take us away."

She crept closer, anxious not to startle our newborn. "Wow…oh wow. Look at that face!"

I grinned. "New baby smell too."

"Don't," the blonde answered, "I'm jealous enough as it is! Man, you didn't waste any time, did you? That had to be one of the fastest labors on record. I was at the hospital for hours…after two false alarms. Does it run in the family?"

"Not mine," Gil claimed. "My mother was in labor for twenty-eight hours."

My jaw dropped. "And you're only mentioning this now?"

He winked at me. "Didn't want to scare you."

"That was probably wise," I admitted. "My mother was in labor over ten hours for both my brother and me so it doesn't come from my side either. Guess it was a fluke."

"Lindsey used to be this small, you know."

"Now she's old enough to babysit, right Cat?"

"Subtle, Gil. Real subtle." I wanted to add more but just then I yawned almost as grandly as my little girl had and Catherine stood up from her crouch and took a step away.

"You better get going," she said. "I'm sure that there's sommmmmoooohhhgoddddd!"

Her squeal had me jumping in fright along with the rest of the room. "What? What is it?"

"Something just crawled up my pant leg!"

"Something?! What something?!" I demanded.

"Easy, Catherine. It's just Houdini."

"Just-Just-dammit Gil! I thought you were going to fix his enclosure!" Catherine was dancing now, hopping with a good leg shake or two every few seconds.

"I thought I had. What can I say? He's earned his name on more than one occasion."

"Gilbert Grissom, do you mean that spider was running loose in this room the entire time we were in here?" Despite my exhaustion, I managed to attach a fairly decent amount of edge to my tone.

"I don't know about the entire time, Sar, but for a good portion, I suppose. Greg noticed Hairy Houdini was MIA when he went to go get the gloves. Catherine if you'd just stand still-"

"There is a tarantula crawling up and down my leg!" she shouted back. "There is no way in hell I can be still. Get it out! Get it out now!"

"You need to relax! You're scaring him," my husband shot back.

"I'M scaring HIM?!! You've got some nerve!" she bellowed, giving her leg another healthy shake. That last shake did the trick because a tarantula the size of my closed fist was launched none too gently into the air on a collision course with me and the baby. Just as it was about to touch down, a net suddenly appeared in its path and the spider was scooped up safely before it managed to make contact.

For a moment, no one said a thing (I suppose we were all just a little stunned by the latest turn of events) but then my strange sense of humor kicked in and I started giggling madly. Everyone followed suit…yes, even Catherine…and the tension slid away to nothingness.

Gil ambled over to my side, gazing down into his newborn daughter's face. "Sorry, Sara. I suppose we should have told you about Houdini's escape but I didn't want you getting upset."

"Again, probably wise," I murmured, touching his face with the back of my palm.

"She slept right through that, didn't she?"

"Mhhm hmm," I answered, "Good thing too."

"Why's that?"

"I doubt very much that this will be the last time our daughter has to deal with a creepy crawly crisis. Might as well start as we mean to begin."


	4. 3:00 am

A Matter of Time

**3:00 am**

_Three o'clock is always too late or too early for anything you want to do._

**Jean-Paul Sartre**, _Nausea (1938) "Vendredi"_  
_French author & existentialist philosopher (1905 - 1980)_

We named her Alaina; partially because we wanted to honor our good friend and colleague, Al Robbins, for his help in bringing her into the world and partially because the Irish meaning of the name meant, "Dear Child." We continued the theme by adding, Amanda, as her middle name. Not only was it Gil's mother's name but it meant, 'beloved' so we felt it was a natural fit.

However, in the flurry of the first few weeks after her birth, Alaina Amanda Grissom's name somehow morphed into, 'Lana' and despite our best efforts to stop it, the nick-name stuck. Hell, I was even calling her that without thinking by the end of it. Not that there was really anything wrong with the name…actually, I think it's sweet…but you know, being a new mom, well, new parents really, you fuss over finding the perfect name for your precious little one and kind of hope the name you pick gets used once in a while (grin).

I lay the blame for this solely at the feet of exhaustion and our inability to keep correcting everyone who used it at the lab (especially Greg!). Let me explain.

Our daughter, by necessity, had made several visits to the lab in the first couple of months after her birth due to the fact that two of the cases that Gil and I had worked together went to trial at the same time. I was forced to interrupt my maternity leave so I could deliver testimony in court over the period of several weeks.

Since I was breast-feeding and adamant about not leaving Alaina with a sitter, I had no choice but to bring her to work with me while I went through the necessary preparations required in two such important cases as those. 'Lana' soon became quite the celebrity, with everyone offering to 'keep an eye on her' while I was busy if they had a break or a lull. While it was true that she slept a good deal of the time we were there, she also managed a fairly full social calendar, complete with play breaks and 'lunch' dates. Though there were times things got a little stressful, the fact that Gil and I trusted the members of our team to help out and better yet, were able to spend precious time with her ourselves and still get done what needed to be done, made all the difference in the world. I really considered myself blessed that we had such good friends at such a hectic time in our lives.

But I digress…

It was late into shift one night, somewhere around three a.m., when Gil and I entered the break room in search of our daughter. We'd both been called into a meeting with counsel in preparation for the next day's judicial schedule and Greg had been placed on nanny duty while we were unavailable. Naturally, we were anxious to be reunited with our little treasure so we hurried down the corridor not noticing the fact that it was practically devoid of personnel. It was only as we approached the break room that we noticed several raised voices and realized that there was something going on that wasn't business as usual.

Being new parents, we did what most new parents would do…shot a seriously concerned look at each other and scrambled faster down the hallway, mentally prepping ourselves for battle or rescue…or whatever it took. We burst into the room, heaving buckets of breath, demanding to know what was going on. Pure superhero bravado. All that was missing was the capes and matching tights.

Needless to say, our reaction was a tad on the overdramatic side.

Conversation stopped dead. Most were too stunned to say anything. Others hid snickers behind their hands even though their eyes shot us very understanding looks. Regardless, every person in the room was seriously challenged to come up with a way to break the tension of the moment.

Every person but Greg that is. In that boyishly charming way of his, he turned around to face us in one of those cushy swivel chairs and said, "Thank god! Griss and Sara are here. We'll let them be the deciding vote!"

Clamping down on my 'new mommy' panic I tried to appear almost normal and went to the counter to get a cup of coffee. On the way I asked (ohhhh so coooly), "Deciding vote for what?"

Gil hadn't recovered as 'easily' as I and had gone right to the child rather than for the caffeine. He eased her from her carrier and gave her tiny body a little snuggle as he settled into a chair. "Sara, really, I'm not sure I want to know."

Nick snickered into his hand and a few others laughed outright. "It's really stupid guys," Nick said around a mouthful of Tai food. "WE," and he circled the room with his fork, "have been going round and round for an thirty minutes over who your daughter reminds us of. We all know it's someone but none of us can figure out who the hell it is."

I leaned down to where my daughter dozed on Gil's shoulder and gave her a tiny kiss before finding my own chair. "You guys had nothing better to do with your time?"

Gil chuckled. "I was just about to ask the same thing."

Greg grinned, not at all dissuaded by his supervisor's comment. "It's one of those rare days that everything coincided and we all ended up in the lunch room at the same time. Very rare, this. Probably should document this occurrence."

I rolled my eyes, knowing that Gil was in far too content a mood to dispute Greg's claim. "Okay…so…what was the question again?"

"Alaina…she reminds us of someone," Hodges said.

"Well…us, I would hope," my husband put in dryly.

"No…well, yes, of course," Catherine said, "but we're thinking someone famous."

"Vegas famous or world famous?" I asked, intrigued enough to play along.

"World, we think. But that's just it. We can't pinpoint it and…"

"I know, I know. Once a geek thinks of a question, it has to be answered, right? Okay. Well. Hmmmm. Who have you ruled out?"

"Kirsten Dunst," Nick said.

"Cameron Diaz," Wendy offered.

Mandy spoke up with, "Reece Witherspoon…Christina Applegate…"

"Keira Knightley," Hodges added. "Close but none of them really seem right."

"No," I said, "but I see where you're coming from." I gestured and Gil swiveled his chair towards me so I could get a better look at Alaina's face. "Hmmm. The eyes are close but guys, it's all about the cheekbones and her tiny pointed chin."

"And that is why my vote's with Natalie Portman. Or…or Jennifer Love Hewitt," Greg jumped in excitedly. "They both have that going on."

"Yeah, but Greg, their eyes aren't quite right, are they?" Catherine asked, leaning in for a close look herself. "You know, from this angle…she sort of reminds me of Kate Winslet with her eyes closed like that. You know, when she's on the bow of the Titanic."

"'I'm the King of the World!'" Greg bellowed and got numerous, "SHHHHHHHSSSS!" for his outburst. We all held our breath as Alaina fussed a little, opened her eyes but then drifted right back to sleep. "Sorry, guys. Got carried away," Greg whispered.

"You know what, Cat? You may be onto something but…hang on." I slipped out of my chair to go to the computer terminal in the corner of the room. Within seconds, I'd pulled up an image. "There. How's that for a match? Or her?" There was a mass-albiet quiet- shuffling of feet and chairs as the others came closer to take a look at who I'd pulled up. "Not bad, huh?"

Greg was the first one to agree. "Wow. There she is. That's who she reminds me of. Scarlett Johansson!"

Nick shook his head, "No, it's beauty number two for me. Charlize Theron."

Catherine looked from one to the other. "I never realized how much those two actresses looked alike. Hey, I'd say you're both right. They have the same kind of chin…same cheekbones. Yep. I'd buy either one."

It was just about this time that my husband sauntered over to peek at my choices. He looked from photo to photo and then gave a nod. "Yes, they're both close but I've got one closer."

"Really?" I asked. "Who?"

He tilted his head, a gesture I correctly interpreted as meaning, 'let me have a go at the keyboard', and took my place, all without disturbing our daughter in the slightest. A few strokes of the keyboard brought a fresh set of images onto the screen.

"Lana Turner? Really Gil? I mean I can see the eyes and the face but…" I scanned the images of the famous pin-up girl with her blonde hair and dark lips and shook my head.

"Just a second," he said, scrolling down. "I'm looking for one shot in particular…hmmm…here we go." He clicked and the images were replaced with a photo of a very young Lana Turner taken in her first year in Hollywood when she was sixteen years old. It was a really sweet picture…very 'girl next door'…and her hair was every bit as dark as our daughters' curls. The resemblance was uncanny.

"Oh my gosh. You're right. That's her. That's our girl. What on earth made you think of her?"

"Would you believe…the other night, when I was waiting for you to finish up with Ecklie, she made an expression that I swore I'd seen somewhere before and…well, after an hour of surfing, finally figured out who she reminded me of."

Greg gave Gil a nudge in the arm. "Trust the Griss-man to have the answer all along. Well, there you go, our very own, petite, Lana Turner!"

The rest, as they say, is history.

_A/N: A great shout out of thanks goes to my sister who literally went through photos of celebrities and debated features to come up with the best options for comparison for "Lana's" doppelganger._


	5. 4:00 am

A Matter of Time

4:00 am

_It is the friends you can call up at 4 a.m. that matter. ~Marlene Dietrich_

The 'wet and/or starving' baby wail went off at 4:02 am. I moaned and rolled to hide under the nearest pillow. Under normal circumstances, Gil and I would both be offering to get up to check on Alaina but since we'd both just came off a twenty-six hour shift…well, you get the picture.

"It's your turn," he said.

"Dishes," I countered.

"What?"

"I'll do them for you tomorrow," I bribed.

"No, thanks. I'd rather sleep now."

"I'll cook-"

"Not on your life. I'd rather starve-"

"You're lucky I'm too exhausted to be insulted."

"Honey, no insult intended. Just stating the facts."

"Hey, you liked what I cooked on Saturday."

"Microwaving a frozen dinner is not cooking."

"You said you liked it."

"I did like it but you're confusing 'heating' with 'cooking' again."

"Well, if that's the way you feel about it, next time I'll just serve it as is."

"And I'll eat it that way too if it means I don't have to get out of this bed. "

"I know. I've got it. Sex!"

"What about sex?"

"I'll bribe you with sex. You change the diaper and as soon as you finish, we can have sex."

"Sara, if I'm too tired to change a diaper, how the hell do you think I'm going to managed to have sex with you?"

With a mighty groan I heaved myself off the bed. "Just as well," I tossed over my shoulder, "I'm too tired to follow through on that one." I heard him chuckle behind me as I groped my way to the door.

I stumbled to the nursery and passed a hand over the dimmer switch bringing the lights up gently for both our sakes. "Hello, Princess. How may I be of service, your majesty?" I cooed the words at her, pleased that the fractious crying began to abate the minute I touched her. "How's my girl?" I took a breath in and realized quickly what the issue was. "Ooohhh…that's a little nasty, isn't it. I don't blame you for not wanting to put up with that. Well, now, why don't we just get this taken care of, hmmm?" I made quick work of disposing with the messy diaper and cleaning her up. Alaina gurgled and jabbered as I did it, her little legs and hands kicking away as she prattled on. "Oh, you still look so sleepy." I tapped her affectionately on the nose. "Just as tired as mommy. You must have had a wonderful visit with Uncle Greg." She blinked and her lips twitched, and then she squealed, babbling on for several seconds. "My, you did have a busy time. What else did you and Uncle Greg get up to?" Her eyes were glued to my mouth and I could see as she let out another stream of baby noises that she was imitating my movements and trying to copy my expressions. When I finished buttoning the last snap on her onesie, I scooped her from the change table with a soft laugh which she tried to join in. "You like spending time with Uncle Greg, don't you? I do too. He's a real charmer, and I suspect that he spoils you rotten." I nestled her tiny warm body into my chest, and she settled there with another little gurgle of contentment. I felt her sweet breath against my neck and began slowly rocking back and forth with her, practically dancing in the quiet of the nursery. "Oh, you feel so good, little one," I murmured as we circled gently. "I missed you today." I rubbed the middle of her back, feeling her relax into my frame. "One more day, sweetheart. One more and everything will calm down for a little while and it'll be just you and me…and daddy when he comes home from work…though, mind you, I plan to put a little pressure on daddy to take a few days off himself. He needs a break. We all need a break, so maybe it will be just the three of us. Won't that be nice, hmmm? One more day, princess. All this craziness will be over and then you and I can get down to more important matters…like playing with the new blocks I bought you a couple of days ago…and messing up my perfectly organized play centre. We're really behind schedule on that one."

She was starting to grow heavier in my arms…just starting to drift off. I smiled to myself, in awe of the peace I felt in that simple moment. Unwilling for it to end, I sat in the padded rocker we'd set up in the corner of the room and just let myself drift on the sensation of holding her close. I rocked, tipping the chair back and forth with my toes in a steady rhythm that matched the beat of our hearts.

The footstep, when it came, was soft and careful. His presence filled the room so completely that I knew without opening my eyes that he was standing in the doorway, watching us. "It's okay," I whispered, "I'm not asleep. Just wanted to hold her for a while."

He came closer to lean down over the back of the chair. He pressed a kiss into my hair and reached out to stroke Alaina's head tenderly. "I know," he said, simply, "I could hear the creak of the chair on the monitor."

I lifted my heavy lids, curiously examining his face. "Then why…?"

He raised his eyes to mine and shrugged before letting them drift back down to our daughter. "Guess I'm not as tired as I thought."


End file.
